


Thanksgiving

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-26
Updated: 2005-02-26
Packaged: 2018-10-06 13:00:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10335275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SUMMARY: It’s a holiday, and Jack’s not celebrating





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

  
Stargate SG-1 FanFiction - Thanksgiving

##  Thanksgiving

##### Written by BadgerGater   
Comments? Write to us at Badgergater@cs.com

  * SUMMARY : It's a holiday, and Jack's not celebrating
  * PG [D]



* * *

He loved pumpkin pie, but this year, he wouldn't be having any.

Not that he couldn't have.

He'd been invited to several places, actually, but had chosen to go to none of them.

He had a more important duty, even though taking charge of the SGC's gateroom security detail wasn't exactly an assignment that would ever, under ordinary circumstances, fall into the normal duties of a Brigadier General.

But of course, Jack O'Neill was not about to consider himself a 'normal' Brigadier General. In fact, he was downright proud to be abnormal. He never had and never would consider himself to be an officer who stood by the rigid norms of Air Force protocol.

Getting the job done, in the most common sense way, mattered more.

Treating his personnel the way he would want to be treated himself mattered the most.

That was why he'd done what he'd done.

Ten days ago, when the duty roster for November 25 showed up on his desk, he'd merely glanced at it, before remembering what day it was.

Thanksgiving.

The Air Force, and especially the SGC, couldn't shut down for a holiday, it was a 24/7/365 kind of place. The Goa'uld, the Replicators, hell, even the Asgaard, wouldn't respect an American's right to overdose on turkey, stuffing, pumpkin pie and an afternoon of football.

So, someone had to be on duty.

He wanted only the most essential posts filled, and a skeleton crew on hand. Minimal business was to be conducted. There would be no new missions heading out. As many off-world personnel as could be considered non-essential were sent home. The science labs were closed, so even geeks like Felger and Coombs could get the heck out of Dodge. There would be basic emergency staffing only in the infirmary, and if possible, every patient sent home.

Jack looked over the November 25 duty list, and started crossing off names:

Herbrand, newly married.

Harrison, whose father was gravely ill and might not be around for another holiday season.

Wells, father of a new baby.

Carlton, who had a kid on the way.

Even Colonel Dave Dixon, ass that he was, should be home with that whole houseful of kids.

Washington. Edwards. McNamera. Harriman. Hernandez. Williams. Biamila. Alton. Stocco. Prochaska. McMurchey. Lee. Miles. Lewis... those were the ones he knew about.

Enjoying the excuse to get out of his office and stretch his legs, he took the list and headed out, waving a hand at his new aide. "I'm going to talk to some people. I'll be back."

"When, Sir?" the man called out.

"When I'm done," Jack answered over his shoulder.

He liked walking through his base. It had taken him all these months to begin to think of it that way, the way George Hammond used to do, as "his." But, well, it was. He'd taken this job because he'd wanted to do his best for these people, wanted to use his experience and knowledge and common sense to help the men and women of the SGC do their jobs.

He greeted some by name, smiled and nodded at others as he made his way to the Colonel's office. He knocked and stepped inside. "Reynolds?"

"Sir," the officer stood.

Jack waved a hand. "Take a seat. I've come to make a request."

"Yes, Sir."

"An informal request."

"Sir?"

"The duty roster for November 25..."

"Is there a problem, General?"

"It's Thanksgiving, Erik."

"Yes, Sir. I've pared the list down to only minimal numbers of required personnel."

"I can see that. But I'd like to suggest a few changes."

"Changes?" Reynolds looked worried.

"Actually, I'd like to see some different names here."

"They're all qualified personnel," the colonel defended.

"I know they are. That's not the issue. But they have families, people they should be with on Thanksgiving."

"We all do, Sir."

"Actually, no we don't."

Reynolds blinked, nodded, looked embarrassed. "Sir, I..." The colonel looked down at the paper he'd been handed, surprised to see Sergeant Kaiser's name crossed off as team leader of the gateroom SFs and a different name written in it's place. "General, *you're* going to lead gateroom security?"

"Don't think I'm capable?" O'Neill bristled.

"No, Sir. I mean, I know you're capable, Sir, but you're a general."

"And I've got no family. Kaiser has teenagers who ought to spend the day with their father."

Reynolds nodded. "Sir, that's very generous of you."

"I've been where these people are, Colonel, I missed a lot of holidays over the years. We ask the people who work here to make tremendous sacrifices, so when we can do them a favor, we need to try. I want to see if we can't ask a few people to pitch in here, to make sure that as many of those with families will get the holiday off. We may have to keep a lot of personnel on-call, but unless there's a crisis, they can spend the holiday with their families. I'll be talking to the control room personnel myself, and I want you to check with the people on *that* list, while Colonel Carter will take care of the science staff. Get me a revised list by Friday."

Reynolds snapped to attention. "Yes, Sir."

O'Neill stood, and headed out, pausing at the doorway to turn back to the colonel. "And include yourself in this, Reynolds. You've got family, too."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

/------------\

Two days later, O'Neill had a whole new duty roster for November 25th.

He'd talked to the control room technicians and his own staff, crossing off names and penciling in others. Reynolds and Carter did the same.

The new list was quite different from the first, Jack noted with satisfaction. Hopefully, it would provide a morale boost to the hardworking personnel of the SGC.

/------------\

Thanksgiving morning, Jack arrived at the SGC extra early.

He was taking both a double shift and double duty himself. In addition to leading the security team, he was sitting in on communications. While he was no computer expert, he *could* answer his own phones, dial out his own calls, and operate a MALP relay if needed.

Things were so quiet, he was able to take a stack of reports with him to read while he sat in the control room with O'Brien, who was filling in for Harriman. Walter was spending the holiday with his wife and their grown kids, including a son who was about to be shipped out to Iraq.

Around noon, Jack was surprised to see Teal'c walk in. "T-man, I thought you were going off-world to visit the young folks."

"Indeed, that was my original intention. However, being newlyweds, I believe Ryac and Karyn prefer to spend time together. And since this is not a holiday for me, I am, like you, here in place of another."

"So, you're Walter?"

"I am not Sergeant Harriman. Today, I am Lieutenant Grogan."

"Grogan? Perfect target Grogan?" Jack grinned.

Teal'c nodded. "He has gone to spend the holiday with his mother in California."

"That's nice."

"Indeed it is, O'Neill. I have heard many expressions of gratitude from SGC personnel regarding your plan."

Jack waved a hand in the air. "No big deal."

"For some, it is a very big deal, when their leader is willing to work in their place."

"Yeah, well, I really don't need the turkey and pumpkin pie," the General patted his stomach. "It's hard to keep the pounds off sitting behind a desk."

"There is more to Thanksgiving than pie."

"Oh really?" Jack smirked. "Since when are you an expert on Earth's holidays?"

"I have lived on your world for seven years, O'Neill, and studied the customs of your planet. I have learned much."

"Too much I think."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Indeed, I do understand the deeper meaning of the holiday."

"You do?"

"Pie and turkey are only the surface trappings. Thanksgiving is about family and tradition, and appreciating those things which are important to you."

Bored with the slow pace of the day, and the alternative, which was even more boring paperwork, Jack prompted. "So, T, what is it that you are thankful for?"

"For the progress we have made in the battle we fight."

"The Goa'uld are still out there," the General pointed out.

"But many of my brothers are free."

"Not all."

"Someday, perhaps. But where once there were one or two who knew the truth about the Goa'uld, now there are many."

"That's good."

"I am also thankful that Rya'c has chosen his mate well."

O'Neill smiled. "Forgiven him then, I'm glad to hear that."

"I am thankful that I have friends here on Earth."

"That's nice."

"I am thankful that you are my friend."

Jack couldn't meet the ebony gaze, just nodded.

"And what are you thankful for, O'Neill?"

He shrugged, thinking that in the current state of things, there were more things he was ungrateful for than grateful for, like stacks of paperwork, endless dull meetings and the unending demands of his new rank. If he started thinking about the negatives, he could dwell there for days, weeks, months even: how much he missed going on missions with his team, how much he missed Doc, how empty his house was on the few occasions he actually got home to it, and ever and always, underlying every day of his life, how much he missed his son.

Teal'c, patient as he was, had reached the conclusion that O'Neill would not speak, when he was surprised to receive an answer at last.

"The Simpsons." After all, they made him laugh, and that wasn't easy.

"Curling." It would always be a connection with the grandfather who had taught him so much, including a love for the finer points of the bonspiel.

"Hockey." Grandpa at work, there, too.

"My cabin," where even if there were no fish in the pond, there was always peace and beauty.

"The stars," soothing in their sameness, always humbling, and a place to focus on the long sleepless nights.

"The Air Force." It had given him a reason to live, when he'd had none, and it still gave him a reason to get out of bed every morning.

"Hammond," for seven years of patience, latitude and understanding.

"The good people who work here," and how they've put up with me, he thought.

And finally, in a very very quiet voice, so quiet that Teal'c's keen ears almost missed it, "My friends."

That needed no explanation.

/------------\/------------\ Finish /------------\/------------\  


* * *

  


> Author's Pledge: As always, honestly and accurately labeled.
> 
> Author's Note: A special dedication to the wonderful friends Jack O'Neill hasbrought into my life... Tanya, Corine and family, Martina, Judy, Margo, Elizabeth, Carol, Sid, Pheral, Nicka, the whole German contingent at whumpacon<G>, CC, Shanilka, Jenny Po, Cokie, Sabine, Ulrike: all the Fisher-folk, (I'm afraid I've probably left out someone important, and I don't mean to, so please forgive me)... (Thanks Magda for the quick beta!)

* * *

> © November 2004 Love 'em though, well, Jack at least. 

* * *

  



End file.
